Fever Dream - spicy F1 fanfiction- LeclercxVerstappenxSargeant AU

First time

Logan's phone buzzed, pulling his attention to a new ride request. Pickup from Bar 101, drop-off at some Hotel. Typical. Some tourist, probably with more money than sense, heading to a place that screams flashy rather than classy. Whatever, just another Saturday night.

It was especially chaotic tonight. Crowds packed the sidewalks, clubs had lines wrapping around the block, and the streets were a maze of traffic and closed-off sections. The heat was oppressive, thick with humidity, even for the soutch. It usually didn't get this bad until June, but tonight felt like being inside a sauna with no escape.

Logan decided this would be his last ride for the night and accepted the request. He followed the GPS directions, winding through the congested streets until he pulled up outside Bar 101. It was an upscale place he hadn't been to before, but from the looks of it, it catered to the wealthy crowd. Two men waved him down, heading toward his car.

"Hi, Logan?" The blond one asked. Logan noticed the man's tailored suit, the gleaming watch on his wrist, and his broad, confident demeanor. Not bad looking at all.

"Yes, Uber for Max?" Logan confirmed.

Max nodded, opening the door for his companion, who slid into the back seat. Logan's breath caught in his throat. The man was stunning—bright green eyes that were slightly glassy, probably from too much alcohol, and dimples that deepened as he smiled. The stranger reached out to pull Max into the car, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Charles, behave," Max whispered, though not quietly enough. Logan caught the words and the way Charles shuffled closer to Max, holding his hand.

Logan shook his head slightly, refocusing on the road. He had a job to do—get them to the hotel, nothing more. But the two men in his backseat were hard to ignore. They were obviously in love, laughing softly, holding hands, and exchanging glances that made it clear they were wrapped up in each other.

Logan took a back road to avoid the worst of the traffic. The ride was short, only about fifteen minutes, and he figured he could put up with their flirtations for that long. But then he heard the unmistakable sound of a kiss from behind him. He glanced in the rearview mirror to see them leaning into each other, lips locked. Great, just what he needed—a couple who couldn't wait to get a room.

The radio played quietly, but it wasn't enough to drown out the soft, wet sounds coming from the backseat. Logan shifted uncomfortably, reminding himself to stay professional. He was not about to get turned on by some overly affectionate passengers who had no concept of public decency. A soft moan slipped out from the back, quickly hushed, and Logan's grip tightened on the steering wheel.

He tried to keep his eyes on the road, but the constant movement in the rearview mirror was impossible to ignore. Another glance revealed the two men now fully making out. Max's hands were in Charles' hair, and Charles was all over Max, tugging on his shirt and pulling him closer. Logan flicked his eyes back to the road, trying to focus on the traffic lights ahead.

But it was getting harder to concentrate. The sounds from the backseat were becoming more intense—soft gasps, stifled moans. Logan's thoughts scrambled, trying to find anything to distract him, but nothing worked. The heat in the car felt unbearable, more stifling than the humidity outside.

"Charles, no biting, you know we can't—tomorrow."

The words hit Logan like a kick, making him grip the steering wheel even tighter. He considered rolling down the window, getting some fresh air to clear his head, but he couldn't decide what was worse—the sticky night or whatever was happening behind him.

Logan pulled up to a red light, the wait giving him a moment to breathe. He could hear their whispered conversation.

"Max, come on, please, it'll be fun."

"No, Charles, we can wait until we get back."

"That's no fun. See, you already like the idea."

"I don't think—"

The sound of a belt unclicking and a zipper opening filled the car. Logan had to draw the line somewhere. He pulled over to the side of the road and turned around to face them.

"Come on, you need to get out," Logan said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Charles seemed oblivious, his hands still roaming over Max. Max, however, met Logan's eyes through the mirror, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, Max reached into his pocket and put a stack of cash onto the center console. Logan's mouth dropped open as he saw the bills—hundreds, maybe more. He looked back at Max, who was smirking. This was enough for the rent, he wouldn't need to get out at night for the next 4-6 weeks.

"Fine. But absolutely no mess on the seats. Please." Logan turned back around, shoving the cash into the glovebox. Max's eyes stayed on him, a wry smile playing on his lips as he leaned down to whisper to Charles, loud enough for Logan to hear

"That's it, Charles. Be good."

Logan felt like driving straight into the nearest wall. Max gasped, and Logan couldn't help but glance in the mirror again. Max's head was thrown back, his hands gripping the seat, while Charles was clearly... occupied. Logan refused to acknowledge how hard he was getting, forced to focus on the road ahead.

Max's breathing quickened, the wet sounds growing louder. Logan's mind raced, trying to will away his arousal. He saw the  Hotel looming in the distance, and thank God for that. Just a few more minutes and this nightmare would be over.

But as they approached, Max's hand shot out, pressing another wad of cash into Logan's lap. Logan looked down, his eyes widening at the sight of even more money.

"Circle the block until we are finished," Max instructed, his voice strained but commanding.

Logan's heart pounded as he obeyed, pulling away from the hotel and back into the maze of Miami's streets. He didn't know how long they would need, but for that kind of money, he wasn't about to argue.

The tension in the car reached a boiling point. Max's moans became more frequent, Charles' muffled sounds echoing in the confined space. Logan's fingers ached from gripping the steering wheel so tightly, his mind barely able to focus on driving. All he could think about was the obscene scene unfolding in his backseat.

Finally, Max let out a shuddering gasp, his body tensing, and Logan knew it was almost over. He made a few more turns, guiding them back toward the hotel. Charles' head reappeared in the mirror, looking utterly wrecked but somehow even more beautiful than before. Max leaned back, catching his breath, his hand still gently stroking Charles' neck.

Logan pulled up to the hotel's entrance and parked. Max leaned forward, clapping Logan on the shoulder with a wink.

"Thanks, mate."

Logan, utterly speechless, watched as Max and Charles climbed out of the car, their behavior now completely normal, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. Once they were gone, Logan pulled into a parking space and let out a long, shaky breath. The last thirty minutes felt surreal, like a fever dream he couldn't shake.

He glanced at the glovebox, remembering the wad of cash inside. Rent, dinner, maybe even a small vacation—all covered by two insane passengers who had no concept of boundaries. But for some reason, all Logan could think about was how those green and blue eyes had looked at him.

He sat there for a moment longer, then reached down, unbuckling his belt. He wasn't proud of it, but he needed to relieve the tension, the memory of Max's words and Charles' flushed face too vivid to ignore. A few quick strokes, and he was done, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Logan cleaned himself up and tucked the money away. He'd never look at a hundred-dollar bill the same way again.

I got the inspo after reading "temperature get to you" from minieggs11. The first two chapters are inspired by that work.